


the realities we find in our minds

by zoodie



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bars and Pubs, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Dissociation, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Happy Ending, M/M, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recovered Memories, References to Depression, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is Whipped, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Sad Eddie Kaspbrak, Seriously-There Is A Happy Ending If You Just Hold On For A Bit, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, The Losers Will Show Up Later, Therapy, Young Adult Losers Club (IT), implied/referenced trauma, memory repression, two Richie Toziers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26943463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoodie/pseuds/zoodie
Summary: When Eddie Kaspbrak remembers Richie Tozier, life starts to look up.Unfortunately, Eddie's memories aren't entirely reliable.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey !  
> I'm not going to lie, this first chapter is... kind of a downer. However, I promise it looks up from here! Despite what things may lead you to believe, there will be a happy ending.  
> If you prefer a sad ending, however, the first chapter can be read as a standalone.  
> I'm pretty new to this, and many elements of this fic are autobiographical, so please be gentle :)  
> I'll be updating again soon!

Eddie’s eyes were heavy long after his alarm went off. Falling in and out of a light and reluctant sleep for fifteen minutes, he finally stopped indulging in extra rest. No one was there to wake him if he was completely lost to sleep again. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Nothing was on the agenda for the day, as it was his day off, but longer hours of sleep supposedly worsened depression. There were a lot of things Eddie did not need, and a worse case of depression was one of them.

The morning passed in what felt like mere minutes to Eddie. Brewing the coffee, taking a shower, and doing the dishes were tasks for glazed eyes and a blank mind. He had no recollection of any of this after it was done. He barely noticed himself as he followed his routine. Eight in the morning turned into two in the afternoon after a blink and a yawn. This wasn’t particularly unusual for Eddie, unfortunately. Nightfall always felt so out of reach, but at the same time, it would arrive within seconds. 

Eddie felt that he lived outside of time. It applied to the world around him, sure, but not to him. His days were long but went by so quickly. He spent them wandering the walls of his mind, often clueless to the events taking place around him. It wasn’t intentional, but he couldn’t control it the way he knew he should. He’d ruined countless potential friendships because of his unfortunate habit of checking out of reality. He came off as uninterested and most likely offended others. It didn’t matter if that’s what he intended; His colleagues did not understand how to deal with him. It was for the best, really. Eddie never found them that interesting anyway.

Eddie lived alone in his New York apartment. It was a one bedroom, with fairly updated appliances and a generous amount of warm water. He couldn’t complain. He wasn’t living lavishly by any means, but he had no desire to drown in luxury. His place was severely lacking in decoration or personality, but Eddie sort of felt that it was a fair reflection of himself. He felt that the walls of his apartment were very… _Eddie._ They were a pale beige color, missing the homey paintings or framed photographs. Blank. _Very_ similar to Eddie.

It didn’t matter that Eddie’s walls were blank, that his couch was small, that only one chair sat at his kitchen table, or that his fridge was largely barren. He never had company. Ever. It wasn’t as if Eddie was going to invite his coworkers over for wine and a chat. If that’s what adults did, anyway. No one in Eddie’s life was worth inviting in. There was no point. No one in Eddie’s life showed interest in knowing him, in truly _seeing_ him. The people he met on occasion thought he was an interesting specimen of man, interesting enough to poke and prod at for an intrusive ten minutes of conversation. He was the circus display that people sometimes paid to see, but inevitably regretted spending the time or money on. Whether Eddie contributed his effort into the conversation or not always ended in the same result: a hollow, “Nice meeting you, Eddie.” and a brisk walk in the opposite direction. This never hurt him, for he remained indifferent to the people around him, but Eddie was always curious of what sustainable friendship felt like. As long as he could remember, Eddie felt that friendship was something for someone else. Never for him.

He considered searching for a roommate when he was looking for apartments originally, but ultimately decided against it. The rent was manageable by himself after his raise at work, and a roommate required constant social interaction anyway. It would inevitably end in disaster, he just knew. Not only would it be horribly stressful, but Eddie knew if he and his hypothetical roommate got into a fight, _he_ would be the one moving out. He hardly had the energy to hold his job, let alone fight for his spot at home. He would give it up at the nearest sign of confrontation. Even worse, he probably wouldn’t care all that much. He’d find a new place, pack up, and move. There was nothing personal about his apartment that he would miss. It was his place to sleep. It didn’t matter any more than that.

So, Eddie did not have a roommate. Things were fine the way they were. He took care of himself, as much as he needed to anyway. Without outside distractions interfering with his productivity, he was an admirable worker. The distractions within his head hindered his efficiency, but they bothered no one but him. As far as anyone else could tell, Eddie worked diligently all day long, with no breaks for socializing or relaxing. He was any boss’s dream employee, so he was often left to his own devices while in the office. His coworkers gathered his lack of fondness for socializing within days of beginning the job, and he’d been there for two years now. They greeted each other on occasion, more out of politeness than authenticity, but Eddie was okay with that. He was unbothered in the office, and no one noticed when he caught himself trapped in a dazed state, unable to escape. 

Eddie could acknowledge how severely lonely he was. It was undeniable, really. When he caved and let himself think about it, he yearned for someone to understand him. It was practically a universal wish; Everyone wanted to be understood. But Eddie’s wish ran deeper. He dreamt of someone who knew him effortlessly, someone who he didn’t have to constantly explain himself to. Someone who knew how Eddie worked and why he did the things he did. Someone who balanced him out, coaxing Eddie out of his shell, but not dragging him from the comfort of his mind. He imagined someone who knew him so deeply and intimately that talking wasn’t always necessary. Someone who could look into his eyes and see through him. Eddie knew it was a pipe dream, that relationships like that weren’t at all realistic. His life wasn’t a movie, and if it was, it wasn’t a happy one by any means. A relationship like the one he wanted simply did not exist. Just because he knew it wasn’t logical, however, did not mean he didn’t still wish for it from the safety of his mind, when his eyes were closed at night and stupid thoughts were forgivable.

Eddie’s mind was barren all afternoon. He moved through his daily cleaning routine with no spare thought of anything. He was so far inside his own head, that it felt to him like someone else was in control of his actions. Eddie felt as if he was watching someone sweep the floor from a distance. He felt that the person who followed up by mopping was so far away from him. When he looked down at his hands, his palms, his fingers, they didn’t look like the ones that he knew to be his own. He searched every crevice of his mind for something, anything, but came up short. There was simply nothing to find. Eddie Kaspbrak was not in the apartment with his body, he was somewhere lightyears away. He wanted someone to find him, to drag him back, because he was not consciously present. He felt absolutely nothing.

The sun descended, hiding behind the towers of the city. The time only read just past eight. The sun was falling earlier every day, and Eddie always fell with it. He retired to his bedroom as soon as the last rays of sunlight disappeared from through the curtains. He crawled into bed the minute his bedroom was dark enough to fall asleep in. On his back, covered by only a sheet, Eddie looked long and hard at the ceiling. As he scrambled to grasp a solid thought, minutes ticked by. He fought to think, but the dialogue in his head was muted and fleeting. He was still trying to get a grip on a conscious feeling by the time he drifted into a turbulent sleep.

* * *

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he forced himself to go on a run. Too many days had passed since his last one. He unintentionally rose before his alarm, around six instead of eight, so the sun was still relatively low in the sky. He didn’t remember anything about the dream that woke him, but he felt deeply unsettled, even slightly nauseous. Eddie never remembered his dreams anymore. He had wanted to research it, figure out why this was, but he couldn’t be bothered to do the work. It was pointless anyway. No one knew shit about dreams, and Eddie wasn’t so sure he wanted to remember his anyway.

He showered, poured himself a partial mug of black coffee, and changed into his sweatpants. He briefly considered shorts, but the September air was arriving every morning slightly brisker than yesterday’s. His head was in a different place compared to the day before; Eddie was still absent from reality, lost in the confines of his head, but thoughts were present, louder than before and easier to make out. From his walk to the elevator through his run on the sidewalk outside his complex, he had a running narration of thoughts. He wasn’t necessarily thinking about his current surroundings or actions, but it was still an improvement. Eddie didn’t have a regular route, instead running in whatever direction his legs chose, so being conscious of his surroundings wasn’t necessary anyway. He wasn’t really _seeing_ the world around him, but he was present enough to form dialogue in his head. It was less of what would be considered dissociation and more of what would be a heavy daydream at the moment. Definitely an improvement from the day before.

As he jogged at an average, maybe even brisk pace, Eddie considered his circumstances. He focused all of his energy into giving internal voice to conscious thought. He thought of everything he knew to be true. His name was Eddie Kaspbrak. He was twenty-eight. He lived in New York City. He was gay, and doomed to be eternally single. He had no friends. His mother was dead. His father was dead-er. His parents didn’t do much for him, but he learned a lot from them regardless. He had a stable job that he didn’t enjoy, but it paid well, and he had a solid grasp on how to do it. His coworkers were ignorant assholes, though unintentionally. His boss pitied him, but didn’t care enough. He went to therapy weekly on Sundays. Therapy didn’t work on him, but the insurance from his job covered it in full. He didn’t remember his past, short or long term, because he was never mentally present enough in the moment. His name was Eddie Kaspbrak. He was real. He didn’t function the way he was supposed to. People didn’t like that about him. His name was Eddie Kaspbrak. He was twenty-eight. He liked men in theory, but the men who existed outside his thoughts weren’t worth his time. His apartment wasn’t bad. His name was Eddie.

By the time he was mentally exhausted focusing on his thoughts, he noticed the burning in his calves, a sign that he was physically spent as well. He took a look around, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, as if he was seeing his surroundings for the first time since leaving the apartment. In a way, he was. He felt more awake today, allowing himself to be a bit more in the moment after his thinking exercises. They grounded him, brought him back to the reality around him. He wasn’t unreasonably far from the complex, but he definitely didn’t recognize the street from previous runs. The Sun, higher in the sky than when he first saw it that morning, illuminated the New Yorkers walking to their weekend work or errands. Eddie didn’t know what time it was, having left his jogging watch on the counter, but it was still early. The streets around him weren’t at all overcrowded. They weren’t even slightly crowded for the city standards. But still, no one paid him any mind. He was just a jogger on the sidewalk, and there were plenty of things in New York that called for more attention. 

Eddie made his way over to the nearest bench, sitting to properly catch his breath. He hadn’t even realized he needed to so badly. New Yorkers passed him without sparing a second glance. Eddie looked up at the sky, past the skyscrapers and the city smoke. He dug around in his mind, searching for a feeling. But looking at the sky, grey and vast, Eddie felt nothing.

Eddie’s jog home was at a much slower pace, though his heart rate remained high. His mood plummeted further and further as he made his way to the building. With conscious thought often came frustration. He had been a bit more upbeat, a bit more hopeful, during and after his grounding exercises. The elevated mood was short lived though, as usual. Eddie knew he had feelings buried somewhere within himself, deep down. Feelings other than the faint annoyance, contentment, or frustration he sometimes had. Deeper feelings. Feelings like unconditional love, crippling despair, uncontrollable anger, or maybe even the foreign feeling of overwhelming joy. He knew he was capable of having feelings with more depth, they were just lying dormant for the time being. He could unlock them if he tried hard enough. He internally took note of the fact that he cared enough to try at all at the moment. That was a step up from usual. Sometimes on his worst days, he felt content leaving things the way they were. Floating through his days with nothing tethering him to reality. No thoughts, feelings, or people to anchor him to his own life. Eddie was better than that today, though. Although his mood was plummeting, Eddie had enough motivation to _want_ something today. He really, _really_ wanted to _feel_ something. He just didn’t quite know how to go about something like that.

Eddie sat on the floor of the shower. The water was scalding, and his skin was puffy red. He knew hot water made hair dry, and shower floors were disgusting, but his priorities were elsewhere. Eddie sat with his head down and eyes unblinking, even when a stream of water found them, stinging them lightly. He sat there too long, willing himself to cry, yelling and slamming fists on the shower floor when he couldn’t. It didn’t even matter.

Newly clothed and sitting at his kitchen table with a half empty glass of water, Eddie waited. He waited silently in anticipation. He just wanted something to happen. Maybe something actually would happen. Maybe someone on his floor would set off the fire alarm. Maybe a bird would fly into his window. Maybe he would get a phone call from… a wrong number. With his eyes trained on the lightly sanded wood of the table, Eddie continued to wait. Nothing happened. Until something did.

The glass of water Eddie was drinking had been largely insignificant until he nearly choked on a gulp. It wasn’t clumsiness or a wrong breath. The rush of fifteen year old memories resurfacing sent the water down the wrong pipe. Eddie hadn’t been prepared for the physical lurch of his stomach, or for the sudden feeling of his brain filled to the brim with loud and coherent thoughts. The feeling was unfamiliar, alarming, and exhilarating. It came out of nowhere. All at once, Eddie was present. All at once, Eddie was alert. All at once, Eddie remembered Richie Tozier. 

* * *

_“You know, you might make more friends if you don’t spend your recess reading.” Eddie shut the book, keeping a finger on the page. Before he had the chance to look up, the boy was sitting down beside him. Unaffected by Eddie’s silence, he spoke again. “You’re lucky that I don’t have any friends either, and I happen to think you’re not a weirdo. Even if you do spend your spare time with a book. Whatcha reading?” Eddie remained silent. He didn’t know how to respond to that. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but we’re friends now so it would be kind of weird if we didn’t. I’m Richie.” Eddie snuck a glance at the boy, trying to find a mocking smirk or another sign of deceit. He wasn’t looking Eddie’s way, instead watching the kids playing a lawless game of soccer in the field. For whatever reason, it was reassuring. Eddie couldn’t really put his finger on why._

_“Eddie.” He whispered. Richie glanced over, a small smile gracing his face. He nodded. Eddie caught Richie’s smile growing as he looked back towards the field._

* * *

Eddie spent several moments coughing and sputtering, though he was far more concerned with the memories. It was overwhelming and entirely impossible. He had a best friend. A _best friend._ Surely he should have remembered someone so significant. Someone had cared about Eddie. Someone out there had wanted to _know_ Eddie. He could hardly believe it. Eddie’s body felt warm, and his stomach felt like it was… wiggling. He was feeling something. He couldn’t place the emotion, but it was there. Elation? Wonder? Or… Relief? Relief that Eddie had mattered to someone at some point in time, that someone chose _him_ of all people? Someone in the same universe as Eddie had been his friend. Eddie was worthy of having a friend.

He wasn’t remembering everything at once, but little details about his only friend made their way to the forefront of his mind. Richie wore glasses that made his eyes look huge. Richie wore a thin bracelet every day, and he never forgot it. Richie hated to read, but he was so smart. Richie made the most disgusting jokes. Richie was an outcast, like Eddie. Richie yelled at Eddie’s mom one time, in a way Eddie had never seen from anyone. Richie loved chocolate ice cream, even though Eddie insisted that strawberry was better. Richie always remembered the most random dates from history class, even though they were useless. Richie never wore a matching pair of socks, and Eddie doubted he wore clean ones either.

Eddie sat, tightly gripping his water glass, staring at the table. His breaths were shallow, his eyes were wide. He couldn’t slow his fucking head down. It was too fast, too fast. Thoughts and memories were interrupting each other in his mind, pushing their way towards the front, vying for Eddie’s undivided attention. He stared at the table. He took a deeper breath. He ran his fingers on one hand along the rough wooden surface, and focused on the feeling of cool glass against the fingers of his other hand. He grounded himself. He remained present. He couldn’t risk slipping away and losing the new memories. He took another breath. He picked one thought to focus his attention on. 

Richie moved away long before either of them had gotten cell phones, but neither of them felt it was permanent at the time. Richie told Eddie that he’d reconnect. He promised. That was fifteen years ago, so clearly Richie’s plans of reconnecting fell through. Eddie focused all of his brain power on this. Would Richie want to hear from him? Did Richie remember him? Did Richie forget Eddie, just as Eddie had forgotten him? Where even was Richie? And how would Eddie find him? Richie was supposed to be the one who did the hard work of reconnecting. Eddie shook his head with a small smile and pondered the different ways that he could tease Richie when he beat him to it. However, Eddie’s plans for a reunion were short-lived.

The clock read six by the time Eddie gave up on looking. It had been hours on end of relentless searching. Richie was a social media ghost, and didn’t even show up on LinkedIn or Google. Even Eddie was on LinkedIn, and he never did socials. Eddie had searched everywhere, but there was only so much he could do with such limited information. A first and last name could only go so far. He didn’t know where Richie moved to, or what college he graduated from. Maybe Richie didn’t even go to college. Richie could have changed his first name, or he could have been married with a new last name. Eddie had no clue. But he had wanted emotions, and he was getting them now, ever so slowly, even if the emotion was complete fucking hopelessness. His sleep that night was restless. Eddie couldn’t shut his mind off.

* * *

_“Spaghetti! Come on! You’re fucking slow, I’ve been here for six hours. I didn’t even spend that long with your mom last night.”_

_“Shut up, Richie! We both know you’ve been there for literally ten minutes. And don’t fucking call me that!” Eddie purposely walked even slower towards his best friend. Richie groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that it looked borderline painful._

_“If you wanna get there when the Sun’s already down, be my guest, but that’s not what I had in mind when I made these plans!” Richie’s bottom lip was sticking out and his arms were crossed. Eddie fought back a smile, frowning at his friend instead. He was so fucking dumb._

_“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming. It’s not my fault that you can’t plan shit! I need more than ten minutes of notice, asshole. My mom gets_ questions _and I have to come up with fucking_ answers _! You’re sooo lucky she let me out of the house tonight! It’s a school night!” Richie rolled his eyes again. Eddie noticed that this was becoming a big habit of his recently. “Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that, idiot.” Richie let out a startled burst of laughter._

_“Oh yeah? You gonna put on your surgeon gloves and put ‘em back into place for me?”_

_“God, shut the fuck up Richie! Shut up right now or I swear to God I’ll kick your stupid head! That’s so fucking gross, I don’t wanna touch your slimy eyeballs! Do you have even a vague idea of how unsanitary that is? Even if I wore gloves! The gloves would probably be dirty and then you would have glove germs in both of your eyes! Even if I did pull them back, they’d get all dirty and infected and shit and you’d be fucking blind! Do you wanna be blind Rich? Being blind isn’t fun! I fucking promise!”_

_Richie completely lost it with Eddie’s rant, snorting and cackling, then putting on a shitty southern belle voice, “Doctor Spagheds, oh please fix my eyes! I’m terribly afraid, I can see my own brain!” He batted his eyelashes and made a pouty face, holding in his laughter. It wasn’t even funny, Richie just had a shit sense of humor. Eddie picked up his pace and punched Richie hard in the shoulder. The idiot just laughed._

_“Damn Eds, mean right hook you got there. Surgeon by day, WWE wrestler by night!” Rich was laughing, but he was rubbing his shoulder for a while after that, so Eddie was satisfied._

_When they reached the cliff overlooking the quarry, they sat. Neither said anything for only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity of silence. Eddie spoke first._

_“What… What made you ask me here? Why did you?” Eddie didn’t look at Richie. He didn’t know what he’d see if he did. When Richie responded, his tone was unnaturally serious._

_“I guess… I knew you had a rough week. I, uh, I come here sometimes. By myself. Usually when things are bad at home. My parents don’t fight much or anything, but sometimes it feels like they think I’ve reached the age where they can pretend I’m not there anymore. When I was little, it wasn’t safe to leave me alone. But now… Now they know I can take care of myself. So they don’t have to worry about me, they don’t have to acknowledge me. They don’t notice when I’m there or gone. I don’t suspect they care much either.” Eddie was looking at him now. Richie’s eyes had been fixed on the water, but wandered to the sky. Eddie thought he’d look at Richie and see his face painted with sadness, but he felt even worse seeing that it only reflected acceptance. Richie deserved so much better._

_“How does it feel? Them not caring?” Eddie asked softly. Eddie would never understand the feeling of absent parents, his mom was the complete polar opposite. Richie took a breath, glancing over at Eddie and then back to the sky._

_“Unbelievably lonely.” Eddie looked to the sky as well. The colors were soothing, orange, pink, and red. Looking at the sky, vibrant and vast, Eddie felt sad._

* * *

Sunday arrived in a much more pleasant mood than Eddie. The birds were fucking chirping him awake. The sun was bright enough to pass through his curtains. Eddie was frowning before he even had his eyes open. Besides the reminder of Richie’s lack of internet footprint to dampen his mood, Sunday was already the worst day of the week. Eddie had few strong emotions about anything obviously, but he had always hated therapy days. He fucking _hated_ them. Every Sunday, Eddie woke early with dread in his chest. Today was no different. It was impossibly difficult to ignore trauma when forced to talk about it. Eddie was an expert when it came to avoidance tactics, but there were only so many ways to avoid a subject when asked directly about it. Poked and prodded by a therapist, and he was paying her to do it. Unfortunately, he needed the therapy more than he hated it. So he always went. It hadn’t proven to be helpful as far as he could tell, but every week he gave it another chance. He had nothing to lose. Eddie left the comfort of his bed, beginning his morning. The sooner he started, the sooner it would end.

* * *

_The ride to the Aladdin hadn’t started as a race, but it definitely resulted in one. Eddie had been riding side by side with Richie, but began pedalling faster. He made sure it was gradual, so Richie wouldn’t catch on. Eddie wasn’t very subtle, pedalling ahead of Richie, looking back, giggling. Richie noticed almost immediately, scrunching his face up and yelling over the wind._

_“You wanna race, Kaspbrak? I’ll give you a race!” Richie pedalled faster, faster, faster. Eddie held his own for a while, but his bike was smaller and his legs were shorter. It wasn’t a fair match._

_“No fair Richie! You know your bike is way bigger, you always win!” Eddie yelled, slowing down to a stop in front of the Aladdin. Richie was waiting, arms crossed smugly. “You were supposed to give me a head start! Plus I have fucking athsma, do you want me to die?”_

_“Hea-” Richie shut his mouth for a moment and his eyes went wide. “Head start? Head start?! You got your head start, you didn’t even tell me we were racing! The whole fucking thing was your head start! Next time we race, it’ll be fair. I’ll bring my tricycle!”_

_“You’re so fucking_ annoying _!” Eddie gave Richie the dirtiest look he could muster. Richie burst out laughing after trying to hold it in too long. Eddie rolled his eyes, hiding his smile by turning away. “I’ll get the tickets.” He huffed._

_“No pouting! You knew the rules! Loser always buys!” Richie shouted his way._

_The movie theater was empty when they got inside, and no one else joined them. It was a matinee, and the movie had been out for two months, so Richie and Eddie were the only ones there. Eddie was indifferent to thrillers usually, but Richie had practically begged Eddie to go. They didn’t scare Eddie, but they sometimes stuck with him at night. The realistic ones about home invasion or kidnapping always bothered him a bit. However, Richie’s running commentary made it easier on him._

_“Do you think that guy would be nearly as intimidating if he had no eyebrows and a southern accent?” Richie whispered in Eddie’s ear. Eddie huffed a breath, trying to hold in his laugh. He wasn’t even mad at Richie’s talking, he felt such overwhelming fondness for his friend._

_“Do you think you would be more intimidating if you didn’t dress like a beachfront department store mannequin?” Eddie giggled at himself and Richie’s smile widened._

_“You think you’re sooo funny, Eds, but you’re the one who’s always seen with me in public.” Eddie started full on laughing and Richie followed. It wasn’t even that funny, but usually the things that cracked them up weren’t. When Eddie noticed he was the only one laughing, he opened his eyes and saw Richie staring back. Richie had a faint smile playing on his lips and a look in his eyes that Eddie couldn’t quite place._

_“What, Rich?” Eddie asked, much quieter. Richie snapped out of his daze and shoved Eddie lightly in the shoulder. He turned back to the screen, a grin on his face._

_“Watch the movie or you won’t understand the jokes I make about it later.” Eddie rolled his eyes, but started watching anyway. Only two minutes passed before Richie started up the commentary again._

* * *

Eddie dragged his feet until around three, when he drove the familiar route to the appointment. He drove on autopilot, playing a film soundtrack quietly to subdue his thoughts. Not that it ever worked.

His therapist greeted him punctually in the waiting room, leading him back to her office. She didn’t need to, Eddie knew the way, but it was consistent; It was a part of their routine. Just like the part where she would make small talk, tell Eddie he needed to let himself be more vulnerable, and end the session with, “See you next week!”

With half of the appointment over and nothing to fill the second half, Eddie decided to actually share something significant.

“There was actually one thing that I wanted to mention.” The therapist nodded in encouragement. She looked slightly taken aback, but pleased nonetheless. Eddie didn’t often speak without being prompted. Today, though, he needed her professional opinion. “Yesterday I remembered a friend I used to have. A best friend. I… I don’t understand how he just… how he slipped my mind for fifteen years. He moved away, and I don’t even remember forgetting him. I looked for his social media, I googled his name. I don’t know where he went.” The therapist hummed thoughtfully at the news, pondering to herself. She was silent for a few moments before speaking again. 

“Fifteen years, you said?”

“Yeah, fifteen.” Eddie responded, maybe a bit hesitant.

She was silent for a little while, watching Eddie with sad eyes. Eddie never read emotions well, but the expression put him on edge. He wasn’t so sure anymore that he wanted her opinion on the subject. His stomach felt wiggly again, but it was far less pleasant than before. She spoke then.

“The… I’m not sure I even want to broach the subject, but the… The _incident_ occurred around that time, if I’m not mistaken. Is that right?” Eddie paled, disoriented for a moment. His mind shut down, going blank again. He focused on feeling the soft fabric of the couch, trying to bring himself back to Earth before responding.

“Yes, it- it happened around that time. Yes.” Eddie’s voice sounded much steadier in his head. He couldn’t be bothered about that at the moment, though.

“I thought as much. You see,” She paused, hesitating. “You’ve told me in the past that you want full honesty. I’m here to be honest with you.” She spoke slowly, as if Eddie were fragile. He supposed that in a way he was. She continued. “I know you’ve only recently recovered the memories of the events from fifteen years ago… because your brain deemed it necessary to repress them for that long. The repression of memories comes after the trauma, but you needed someone there to help during. Your brain needed a way to cope with what happened to you before you could repress it. As you’ve said in past appointments, you’ve never been able to rely on your parents. You had no one to talk to at that time in your life. When it happened, your friend… He was there for you. He helped you.” She paused, looking horribly bleak. “That does not necessarily mean that he was real.”

Eddie stared with his mouth slightly agape, blinking as a tear fell. He hadn’t even realized he was crying. She continued speaking to him, slowly and gently, surely explaining the mechanics of it all, but he wasn't very present for the rest of the appointment.

* * *

_“Eddie, baby, you have to tell me what happened. Please, why are you crying? Talk to me, please.” Richie looked clueless trying to console Eddie as he sobbed. He had climbed through Eddie’s window, despite Sonia’s car missing from the driveway, after Eddie didn’t show up to the plans they’d made. He probably assumed Eddie was sick, or grounded. Not… whatever was going on. Something inside him broke when he saw Eddie crumpled on the floor. Eddie had never been so vulnerable, so hopelessly miserable in front of Richie in the time that they’d known each other. Eddie continued to cry, barely breathing between sobs. The type of crying that made Richie tear up watching. Eddie looked, in every possible way, broken. Richie’s tears only fell faster once Eddie spoke._

_“I couldn’t fight him off-” Eddie cried harder. “The man… There was a man and he-” Richie crouched down and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shaking frame, pulling him into his lap and tucking Eddie’s head underneath his chin. He didn’t want Eddie to say any more. He understood._

_“Shh… It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Shh…” Richie held Eddie tightly, hand stroking his hair. Richie’s tears soaked the top of Eddie’s head, but he kept his crying silent. One of them had to be strong in that moment, and Richie knew it had to be him. “I’m here, Eds.” He whispered. “Shhh… I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”_

* * *

Hot tears fell from Eddie’s glistening eyes. He’d felt absent before, or checked out, but he had never in his life felt so consciously hollow; Eddie felt nothing but empty, and he was presently aware that he felt empty. It was the worst feeling in the world. He drove home in silence. He went to bed early that night. The tears stayed the whole time, but he felt nothing behind them. When Monday began, Eddie slept in.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a month to update, I am the worst. Updates should take anywhere from 1-3 weeks from here on out! Hope you like this chapter, it's a bit more upbeat.

Life got… progressively worse for Eddie. He didn’t stop going to work; He couldn’t afford to stay home. However, now he was late more often than not, and the small hallway greetings became one sided. Eddie didn’t bother responding when spoken to, unless it was his boss. His head stayed low wherever he walked. Work quickly became even more impersonal than it had been before; He showed up, finished for the day, and went home. None of it mattered.

He wanted to believe that everything was the same as before. Things could go back to the way they were before he remembered Richie at all. It was unrealistic though, thinking he could ever ignore Richie’s presence again. Maybe he was pathetic, but if that was the case, so be it.

Richie was unforgettable really, which was ironic considering Eddie had already repressed him. As he continued to think of Richie and how the  _ fuck _ his brain created him, it started to make more and more sense. Eddie always bought their movie tickets. Sure, that was because Eddie always lost the race, but he wasn’t really racing anyone, was he? He never went to Richie’s house, either. Richie always seemed to understand him without Eddie having to say anything. Eddie always thought they just connected that way, but it seemed that that wasn’t the case.

There was a pretty good chance that this would be what broke Eddie.

* * *

Eddie took a good look at himself in the mirror on Thursday night. He usually avoided mirrors, disliking his appearance and everything that accompanied it, but this long, hard look in the mirror was a long time coming. He had started eating frozen television dinners and needed to reevaluate his entire being. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t very happy with the person who stared back. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent. His eyes themselves were deeply sunken and puffy. His hair was tousled and dirty-looking. His skin was pale and lifeless. He looked absolutely dreadful. Pathetic.

When he noticed his eyes become glassy, he knew something was really, really wrong. Eddie continued to stare into the reflection of his own eyes, desperately searching for an ounce of familiarity. Ultimately, he failed. The Eddie he had come to know over the years did not cry, yet there was a small tear making its way down Eddie's left cheek.

He slowly undressed himself and crawled in the scalding hot shower, damn the dry hair. He sat on the shower floor, arms around his knees and head down. He cried. He cried longer than he had in a long time. He finally cried. He cried for what felt like days under the running water. He cried until the water began feeling cool, whether it was because he was running out of hot water or because he was so used to the feeling. He cried forever, or so it seemed to him.

Eddie took his time after his shower, washing his face and doing the routine he used to do. It was almost nice, taking care of himself, because he almost forgot about Richie entirely. He didn’t think about Richie when he rubbed his red cheeks with cleanser, he didn’t think about Richie when he massaged his scalp with a moisturizing cream, and he didn’t think about Richie when he brushed his teeth. However, he did think about Richie when he walked out of his bathroom to find Richie sitting on his bed.

_ “AGH WHAT THE FUCK!”  _ Eddie screamed. He was interrupted by Richie’s dignified squeal of “ _ HEAAAAGG, _ ” and the thump caused by Richie falling off the bed.

“R-RICHIE?” Eddie’s mouth was open but no further sound emerged.

“Man, you scared the shit out of me. When did you get so loud? Fuck.” Richie stayed on the ground for a second, rubbing his shoulder. He then moved to get back up, clearly a bit less bothered about this than Eddie was.

“YOU'RE NOT REAL!” Eddie’s eyes were wide and his hands were shaking, but Richie didn’t seem bothered to find out he wasn’t real. It barely phased him. 

“Dun dun dunnn. The jig is up, lad.” Richie’s british accent hadn’t gotten any better since when they were kids, but Eddie figured that this was probably due to the fact that Richie was  _ made up.  _

“You mean you’re  _ aware you’re not real?  _ Aren’t imaginary people supposed to be unaware? Isn’t that kind of the point? What the fuck man? You could have told me! How do you think I looked to everyone else talking to air all day? Fuck fuck  _ fuck!  _ NO WONDER I HAD NO FRIENDS!” Eddie began pacing in front of his bed, hands tousling his hair and pulling at strands. He was  _ stressed. _

“Woah man, Eds, you need to calm the fuck down. If I’m here, it must be because you need me. It doesn’t matter if you know I’m real or not. I’m here. I’m  _ here. _ ” Richie looked a bit scared in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie took a closer look at the man before him, who he’d only seen last time fifteen years prior. He had short, messy brown hair, a thin frame, and no more coke bottle glasses. He was taller than before, but looked the exact same, really. Eddie realized that he looked exactly the way he would have pictured adult Richie before. Eddie frowned, eyebrows furrowed. He guessed that made sense.

“I’m not talking to a made up person, even if you’re  _ my  _ made up person.” Eddie said. His shoulders slumped, like he could finally relax after coming to a decision to ignore him. “Now out of my room, I need to go to bed. I have work tomorrow because some of us are real life people with real life jobs and shit. Now  _ out. _ ” He pointed to the door, leaving no room for argument. Richie gave him a less than favorable look and started walking towards the door. He didn’t seem at all pleased by Eddie’s declaration.

“Wait,” Eddie began, unsure of what he wanted to say. Richie first turned his head, eyebrows raised, then his whole body. Open and ready to listen. “It’s good to see you.”

Richie smiled a small, shy smile. “Yeah, you too buddy.”

* * *

When Eddie woke up, he didn’t quite remember the previous night’s events until he walked into his kitchen to find a man there.

“ _ Fuck _ don’t do that!” He held his hand on his chest, catching his breath.

“I’m not sure where you expect me to go. It’s not like I fucking exist anywhere else. Throwing me out of your apartment and into the oblivion of nonexistence would make you the world’s biggest asshole, dude.” Richie huffed and got up to make coffee. As he poured the beans into the filter, Eddie began realizing how many questions he had.

“How can you make coffee?” A puzzled look inhabited Eddie’s face as Richie smirked. Richie’s spirits began to lift.

“Are you watching me pour these beans? Or are you the one actually doing it?” Richie asked. Eddie blinked. He blinked again. This was too weird. Richie had to be messing with him.

“Shut the fuck up Richie, I know you’re messing with me. C’mon, how’re you doing it?” Richie rolled his eyes with a smile as Eddie huffed. Eddie crossed his arms, going as far as tapping his foot as he waited for an answer.

“Dunno Eds, must be  _ magic. _ ” Richie did little jazz hands as he said the word “magic”, and Eddie was beyond annoyed. Richie leaned back against the counter as he waited for the coffee to pour, looking down at Eddie. He crossed his arms and began tapping his foot to mirror Eddie. Eddie nearly threw a fit.

“Can you, like, not do that? You’re my brain baby so like-” Richie interrupted him with a sharp burst of laughter.

“You-” He wheezed, bending over and hitting his thighs, “You did not just call me-” He laughed again, “Your  _ brain baby _ !” He was one wrong step from rolling on the floor in laughter at this point, but Eddie couldn’t help from cracking a smile.

“Shut  _ up!  _ I can’t call you my imaginary friend, I’m not five.” Eddie began giggling silently as Richie wheezed and cackled. He couldn’t help it, Richie’s laugh had always been contagious.

“Eddie baby,” he paused to laugh again, though he was beginning to gain control of himself, “There are an endless number of titles you can give me, but I never imagined  _ brain baby  _ to be the one you chose.” Eddie huffed and re crossed his arms, looking more than annoyed. Richie had always been annoying.

“Are you about done yet? As I was saying, asshole, can’t I control what you do? I mean, I made you, right? Don’t you have to do what I say?” Richie pondered this a moment. He looked down at Eddie, hesitant, and then spoke up.

“Let’s test it. Tell me to do something.”

“Pour my coffee.”

“No.” 

Eddie gave him a flat stare. Richie grinned back, “Looks like we know now! Guess I’m a subconscious  _ brain baby _ then Eds, huh? Riddle me that.” Richie looked all too pleased with himself in Eddie’s opinion.

“You’re so weird.” Eddie tried not to smile as he said it, knowing that would defeat the purpose.

“I think we both know you’re just insulting yourself.” Richie smirked.

“You’re actually insufferable.” Eddie had no problem wearing his all too common frown now.

“I’m well aware.” Richie responded with another grin.

* * *

When Eddie returned from work, he only slightly jumped at the sight of Richie on the couch, flipping through channels. He still wasn’t used to the company, even if the aforementioned company originated from his head.

“Have you been here all day, or do you disappear when I leave?” Richie looked back behind him at Eddie, smiling when he saw that Eddie didn’t look angry or annoyed at his presence. Improvement.

“I’ve been here all day, not really sure how it works though. Maybe because you thought I’d be here all day? So I have been? I dunno.” Richie shrugged, continuing to flip through channels. He eventually landed on a rerun of  _ Gilligan’s Island _ , a show Eddie used to love as a kid, though they were still reruns then, too.

“You’re aware of how weird this is, right? Like I might be crazy and you don’t exist, yet we’re having a conversation and you’re watching TV? Is that not weird?” Richie glanced back again, a small frown on his face, and patted the cushion next to him. Eddie walked over to the couch and sat down, a foot between them.

“Yeah, I definitely think it’s weird, but I don’t wanna think too deeply into it. I think it’s weirder that I seem to have free will than the fact that I’m here right now. I don’t want to look into it and find out I have one week to live or some shit. Gonna party it up while I’m here.” Richie smiled but his eyes were welled up. Eddie just looked up at him. There wasn’t much to say. As soon as a tear began to fall, Richie’s head snapped back to the TV. Eddie never liked to be vulnerable in front of people, so it figured that made up Richie shared the trait.

As soon as Eddie worked up the courage to say something in response, Richie continued. He sniffled lightly and said, “Eddie, I need you to know something. It’s really important to me that you know.”

Eddie had no idea what Richie could need to say, but the seriousness in his tone freaked him out a little bit. “What is it, Rich?” Eddie waited for a response for what felt like forever. 

Richie looked over at him again, sincerely and seriously. “I am so-” His eyes grew glassy again. “I am so proud of you. Of how far you’ve come. You need to know that I’m proud of you and it matters to me, even if no one else has been there to notice.” 

Eddie’s eyes began to water, but he paid no mind to it. He pulled Richie in for a hug as fast as he could, before he had any chance to change his mind. He wrapped his arms around Richie so tightly that he thought he might suffocate him. Richie slowly wrapped his arms around Eddie, seemingly surprised by the embrace. He heard Eddie’s sniffling, and didn’t mind the wet spot of tears on his shoulder. Apparently something he said has struck Eddie. However, Eddie needed to know. He needed to hear that someone knew how far he had come, and he knew that Eddie needed someone to acknowledge it. It had to be Richie. 

Eddie wiped his eyes before letting Richie go, and Richie gave him the courtesy of staying silent about the splotchy streaks down his face when he pulled away.

“Thanks Rich.” It was a simple thank you but Eddie’s gaze was heavy enough to convey the weight and sincerity in the statement. Richie knew it was a big deal.

* * *

“So you don’t like… go out much then.” It wasn’t a question. Eddie looked up from his reading. He had been reading  _ The Catcher in the Rye _ , one of his favorites that he hadn’t had the motivation to read in a while, but Richie  _ never _ shut up. It had been a few days of this; Eddie would be working, reading, cooking, anything really, and Richie would interrupt with something.

“There’s nowhere for me to go really. Where do you expect me to go? Asshole.” Eddie rolled his eyes and huffed, looking back down at his book.

“You could like, I don’t know… this might sound crazy… but you could socialize? Go to a bar or something? Or a club? Meet people? Make friends? But not in that outfit. Please, God, no.” Eddie was wearing his charcoal sweatpants and a plain, long sleeved tee.

“I’m  _ comfortable,  _ you dick. There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.” Eddie paused, rethinking what Richie said. Then-

“ _ Hey _ I have friends! Fuck off!” Eddie furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance at Richie. Richie rolled his eyes again.

“I think you’re forgetting that you can’t  _ lie  _ to me, you silly goose.”

“Don’t call me a silly goose.”

“Silly goose.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, back to the point, I am your only friend.” Richie grinned. Eddie frowned.

“I have friends. Like… Stan in accounting.” They both knew that Eddie was not friends with Stan in accounting. Richie gave him a look.

“Say you’re friends with Stan again, this time with feeling.” Richie rolled his eyes. “You need to get out there and make a friend! Or two! Or six! More than you have now, at least. You’re lonely, I can feel it. It's emanating off of you in waves, dude. The waves of loneliness are like, killing birds. That’s how bad your loneliness is. Go make a friend. Bar or club?”

“You will not catch me dead or alive in a club.” Eddie left no room for argument.

“Bar it is! Where are we going then?” Richie looked far too enthusiastic for Eddie’s taste.

Eddie quickly realized a few flaws in Richie’s new “plan” to get Eddie friends.

“Rich. Did you just say “we”? As in, you and me? Going to the bar?” Eddie spoke slowly, not condescendingly, but as if he was really trying to understand.

“Yeah, so? I’ll keep you company before you meet people.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you think I’m going to meet people when I’m talking to you? To  _ myself _ ? You think people are going to come up to me like, “Oh hey, are you talking on a bluetooth call? Or are you just  _ batshit insane _ ?’” Eddie looked a bit feral, his voice growing in volume as he spoke. Richie looked a little put out.

“Yeah man, I see your point,” Richie was a little down about it now. “But I don’t really want to stay here alone. I’m afraid I’ll go away when you stop thinking of me.” He looked down as he spoke, unable to meet Eddie’s eyes. The vulnerability was in his words, but he was protecting himself still. Eddie spoke much softer now.

“Okay yeah, we can make it work. I’ll just… act like I’m on the phone or something. We can make it work, it’s okay.” He patted Richie’s shoulder. Richie laughed a little. They would work it out.

* * *

Eddie found himself at Maturin’s on a Friday night, alone. Well, alone as he could be with an imaginary friend close by, attached at the hip. The bar was packed with couples and friends, all of whom Eddie thought were genuinely enjoying themselves. Eddie was not. Eddie was sitting in a booth in the back corner across from Richie, drinking Sour Apple Schnapps. Richie was loud as hell because he could be. Eddie only responded in facial expressions, which probably also made him look like a weirdo, but it was an improvement on talking to air.

“Eds, my man,  _ please  _ order me a drink. I am going to start begging you. It’s hot and crowded and loud and I really want a beer.  _ Please _ .” Richie looked like a kid begging for candy and Eddie cracked a smile, subtly shaking his head in a clear  _ no.  _

“Come on, I’m the reason you’re here. It was my idea! C’monnn Eds just order me a damn-”

“Eddie?” Eddie snapped his head over to the man who called his name to see none other than Stan from accounting. “Eddie! Wow, it’s great to see you out! I’ve never seen you here before, but I’m only here on Fridays, so maybe that’s it.” Stan walked closer to Eddie, standing by the booth. “Can I sit?” Eddie nodded, still a bit shocked to see someone he knew from work. Richie scooted over right before Stan sat on him. He coughed at Eddie, giving him a look.

“Are you gonna fucking say anything?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, um, hey Stan! It’s good to see you. I haven’t been here in a while. I’m usually at, um, a different bar. Somewhere else.” Stan nodded, amused, but not pushing Eddie. He smiled softly, kind and understanding. Eddie wondered quietly in his mind why he hadn’t made more of an effort to befriend Stan before.

“Well I’m here with a friend. He’s ordering the drinks right now because he lost a bet to me. He’s  _ always  _ losing a bet to me. This time it was me betting he couldn’t get a girl’s number from the bar. He probably could’ve won the bet, really, but he led with, “Hey, I’m gay, but,” and apparently girls don’t come to bars looking for platonic friendships.” Stan laughed, and Eddie laughed too, and it was almost natural sounding. 

“Stan? Where’d you go?” A man shouted from behind the booth. “Ah! There you are.” A tall, broad shouldered man with longer, dark brown hair, a square jaw, and rectangle glasses found their booth. He wore a dark floral button up of blues and purples. Eddie assumed it was Stan’s friend, as he carried a tall glass of beer and a seltzer. “Stan, you should have seen the way the bartender looked at me when I said I wanted a  _ seltzer _ . It’s yours, yet it somehow makes  _ me  _ seem gayer.” He looked over at Eddie, mouth lifting to a smile. “Well,” he said, looking down at Eddie’s Sour Apple Schnapps, “There certainly are gayer drinks.” 

Stan slapped his shoulder, whispering a “ _ sit down _ ” and pulling his arm. Richie was pretty close to the wall now.

“Jesus, who is that guy?” Richie asked. Eddie shook his head slightly, shrugging his shoulders. Stan answered their question before he said anything.

“Eddie, this is Richie. Richie, Eddie. Rich, please don’t be a nuisance.” Eddie paled, looking at  _ his _ Richie and back to  _ new  _ Richie. He smiled, hesitantly, at new Richie.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, young fellow!” New Richie said in a cheery British accent. Made up Richie was starting to look a bit freaked out.

“My drink is not gay, plenty of straight people drink Schnapps. The fact that I’m gay and drinking Scnapps are  _ not related _ .” Eddie got up and walked briskly to the bathroom, leaving new Richie laughing at the booth, with imaginary Richie hot on his heels. Whatever God existed made sure the bathroom was empty for Eddie and made up Richie to talk. Eddie hurried in and shut the door, locking the latch behind them.

“Why the fuck is there a guy out there who is just like me but hotter?” Asked Richie. Eddie didn’t know how to respond, so he began pacing with his hands in his hair. “Stop pacing, dammit!”

Eddie stopped pacing, just for a moment, looking at Richie. He began pacing again.

“Look Rich, he isn’t you. He can’t be. Because  _ you’re _ you, and you’re  _ here _ . And you told me that you knew you weren’t real. And you don’t look the same.” Eddie kept pacing.

“We both do the british accent.” Eddie looked up at him with a huff of annoyance.

“Anyone could do a fake, annoying, inaccurate british accent to be funny. That’s not proof of anything.” Eddie continued his pacing, ignoring the knocks on the bathroom door. It was a single person bathroom, so there was probably a line. “This is just a coincidence. Richie isn’t an uncommon name. My therapist said you weren’t real.  _ You _ said you weren’t real. This is a big, weird coincidence. Plus, that guy’s way more attractive than Richie would ever grow up to be. Plus plus, Stan says he’s gay, and you’re not gay. It’s a coincidence.” Eddie stopped pacing, looking at Richie. He was convinced now. This was a coincidence. He felt much better.

“Okay, yeah. You’re right, that’s like, impossible. And I’m imaginary, so. No worries.” Richie grinned. 

_ Knock. Knock. Knockknockknockknockknock. _

Eddie swung the door open, seeing new Richie nearly knock on Eddie’s forehead.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you about the gay drink comment, so I’m sorry about that, but you have to admit, Sour Apple Schnapps is pretty gay dude, like  _ I  _ drink that. But I’m sorry? I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Forgive me?” New Richie had aura of confidence and likeability, but he seemed genuinely concerned that Eddie wouldn’t forgive him.

“It wasn’t you, man. Just… remembered something. Got a little spooked or something. But I’m good, really.” Eddie smiled, to prove how “good” he was. New Richie grinned back.

“That’s great, yeah. Great! So um, wanna get back to Stan the Man then? I wanna embarrass him. He’s a very embarrassable guy, you know. And I get the pleasure since old Pats isn’t here to do it.” Richie was positively beaming and Eddie couldn’t turn him down.

“Yeah… Um, yeah, I think that sounds nice.”

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment what you think if you'd like <3

**Author's Note:**

> lol....... sorry  
> comment your thoughts!  
> I'll have a second chapter up as soon as I can!


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